


The Darkest Symphony

by Shadow_Side



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: BDSM, D/s, Dark!verse, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Impact Play, Kink, Knifeplay, M/M, Mind Control, Roleplay, Rope Bondage, Strexcorp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21900763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Side/pseuds/Shadow_Side
Summary: Strexcorp is throwing another of its fancy parties, and Cecil decides it's a good excuse to spice things up. Kevin agrees.[A stand-alone fic set inBelieververse.]
Relationships: Kevin/Cecil Palmer
Comments: 10
Kudos: 152





	The Darkest Symphony

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yumkas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yumkas/gifts).



> So I'm not doing an actual Christmas fic this year, but apparently I am doing a Christmas _present_ , for those of you who enjoy the bad and wrong and who wish I'd included even more of it in _Believer_ than I did… and especially for Yumkas, who has supported me so much since very early on in this 'verse, and who wanted some more fun with evil!Cecil. Because Christmas wishes should come true! :-)
> 
> As such, this one is set in [Belieververse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13217850), which is a spin-off AU of [Chiralityverse](https://archiveofourown.org/series/146883), which is very long! If you're new around here – or you've just come for the smut! – all the context you really need is: Cecil/Kevin/Carlos is a thing, but then Strexcorp won; Cecil and Kevin are now evil due to mind-control, Carlos is currently in prison, and Derek Hartley – leader of Strexcorp – is a very bad man/demon. He does not get in on the actual smut in this one, however, because this is a Christmas _present_ , not a Christmas _trauma_. And sometimes Cecil doesn't like to share.
> 
> The title this time comes from the song _Empire_ , by The Rasmus, which is itself one of Cecil's songs on my Belieververse playlist, and which in turn means that using it here is a weird kind of foreshadowing. Sort of!

The Greater Metropolitan Area lies bathed in the loving glow of the Smiling God.

The air is hot. The ground is hot. This is partly because it's August, but mostly because the sun – which is the echoed glow of the Smiling God made manifest – never sets.

This is how it should be.

Strexcorp has been in control of the entire Greater Metropolitan Area – the united Desert Bluffs and Night Vale – for two months now, and already it feels as though things have been this way forever. The great pyramid at the heart of Desert Bluffs that serves as Strexcorp HQ has been complete for almost a month, and Kevin, certainly, can't get enough of it.

Right now, he's standing on the balcony outside the suite of rooms he shares with Cecil, high up the pyramid. It's early morning, and below them, the Greater Metropolitan Area is awake and beginning the new day; a hubbub of activity that sometimes slows, but never ceases.

All in the service of Strexcorp.

There's movement behind him, but Kevin doesn't turn, because there's only one person it can be.

"There you are," Cecil says, wrapping his arms around Kevin and kissing his neck. "Good morning."

"Hey," Kevin replies, softly, putting his hands over Cecil's.

"Did you sleep well?"

"I always do, when I'm with you." Kevin smiles, and he knows Cecil will be able to hear it in his voice. "Besides… you're good at tiring me out."

Cecil presses in closer, his arms tightening around Kevin a little. "You certainly weren't complaining," he remarks. "In fact, I think what you were saying was more like _'yes, Cecil, please,'_ and _'Smiling God, don't stop'_."

Kevin gives a shiver of happiness. "That does sound like me," he replies. "Though… you could always put it to the test." A beat. "Just to be sure."

"I won't say I'm not tempted," Cecil answers, "but today… I have other plans."

"You do?"

"I do. It's the party tonight, after all."

Ah yes, one of Strexcorp's many parties. Their leader, Derek Hartley – head of the Management Board and founder of the company – has a great fondness for such events, and likes to hold them regularly. Tonight is a particularly important one, though, given that it marks the formal completion of the building works linking Desert Bluffs and Night Vale. They're one town, now: not just in spirit, but in substance.

"So it is," Kevin replies. "What are you planning?"

"Ah, my dear double… that would spoil the surprise," Cecil breathes, in Kevin's ear.

One thing is for sure: concentrating on work is going to be difficult today.

***

It is. And, to make things even more challenging, their great leader has a task in mind when they hold their usual morning meeting: a hideout used by members of the resistance has been located by the enforcers.

"I thought about telling them to move on it at once," Derek Hartley explains, with a smile. "But I know how you like to do these things in person, Cecil."

Cecil has been Strexcorp's Chief Enforcer since the takeover. It makes sense, given the unexpected but extremely intense planar powers he discovered he had a little under a year ago. Knife-fighting is one thing – and definitely more Kevin's forté – but being able to blast people off their feet from fifty paces away is quite something else.

"I do, sir," Cecil answers, with a smile of his own. "Consider it done."

***

There are pockets of resistance activity all over the Greater Metropolitan Area. Tracking them down and dealing with them is a fairly regular occurrence, although to date it hasn't yet revealed how so many people were able to flee to Nebolgorod – the miniature city under lane five of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex – when the takeover first happened. Nor has it revealed where the portal to that city has been moved.

And it certainly hasn't turned up the scientists responsible for ambering the entire Fun Complex so that Strexcorp couldn't get in that way.

The lack of progress in dealing with these _dissidents_ is frustrating. Very, very frustrating. Missions like today help, though, because taking out a few of them is a good way to send a message.

Strexcorp is coming for you. And no matter how long it takes, we _will_ find you.

Cecil often likes to be quite hands-off during these takedowns, which suits Kevin just fine. He's always been far more hands- _on_ , and plus he likes it when Cecil watches him fight, because Cecil _appreciates_ him for it. And then finds ways to _show_ his appreciation.

As the last of the dissidents falls, Cecil gives a flick of the wrist, and the glowing energy field trapping everyone inside drops away. It's one of his favourite ways to do this: to bottle all their targets together in one confined space, and then let Kevin deal with them.

Kevin cleans the blood from his blade on the arm of the nearest body, then slips his knife back into its sheath with a snap and paces over to where Cecil is standing.

"That was bracing," he remarks.

"And effective," Cecil adds. "We'll have the enforcers sweep the building, in case there's anything of note left behind."

There never is. What these dissidents lack in combat skill, they more than make up for in subterfuge. Under different circumstances, they'd actually be dangerous.

"You want to head back to HQ?" Kevin asks, leadingly. On a number of occasions like this one, he's found himself slammed up against a wall and ravaged at this point, and he'd really quite enjoy it if that happened today. Something about what Cecil said this morning is making him feel very wound-up, and the more time passes, the worse it gets.

"I think that would be wise," Cecil answers.

Kevin bites his lip, and tries to think about efficiency and productivity.

It is not easy today.

***

By the time evening rolls around, Kevin feels like he's losing his mind.

They've returned to their suite in the HQ pyramid to get ready for the party, which is being held in the grand ballroom a little further down the building. Outside, the glow of the Smiling God shines on – 'night' in the traditional sense being something that no longer happens here – and Kevin knows he'd be looking forward to this, if he could concentrate.

But he can't. He knows Cecil is plotting something, and he knows Cecil is making him wait, and the combination of the two is more than he can take today.

"When are you going to tell me?" Kevin finally asks; need getting the better of him.

"Tell you what?" Cecil replies, his voice level but in no way innocent.

"What you're planning," Kevin pushes. "What you're _plotting_. You've been _weird_ all day…"

This is a dangerous line to walk. Since becoming a part of Strexcorp, Cecil has been extremely self-assured about himself and his powers, and the only person in the world he'll act submissively towards is their great leader, Mr Hartley. And when it comes to Kevin… the power balance in their relationship is particularly polarised now.

Not that Kevin would ever complain. He _very_ much likes it when Cecil takes control. He likes it even more since they worked out all the creative uses for the empty dungeon in the basement.

But it's important not to forget what Cecil is capable of, or how _wicked_ he can be.

The man in question meets Kevin's eyes. "Have I now?" Cecil says, and the way his voice drops at that makes Kevin's stomach do somersaults of hope. And of fear. "How so?"

"You're up to something," Kevin pushes, because he's committed to this now, and because the risk will most likely be worth it. "You admitted as much this morning. So… you should tell me."

"Oh, I should, should I?" Cecil echoes, starting to pace closer with a predatory look in his eyes. "And why is that?"

"Because I'm asking you nicely," Kevin answers.

Cecil's expression darkens all the more at this, and it is suddenly very hard for Kevin not to fall to his knees. Cecil, for his part, keeps on advancing until they're face-to-face, and then pushes Kevin smoothly against the wall; pinning his wrists by his sides and leaning in close.

Kevin tries not to blink. It isn't easy.

"Don't _ask_ me nicely," Cecil says, soft and deadly. " _Beg_ me nicely."

A shiver runs through Kevin's whole body at that, making his breath catch, and it's a few seconds before he can pull together enough coherence for a reply.

" _Please_ , Cecil," he gasps, surprising even himself with just how needy he sounds. "You know I'll do anything you say."

Cecil smiles, not letting up his grip on Kevin's wrists. "I think we should put that to the test," he declares. "I have something I want to try. Tonight. At the party."

"…At the party?" Kevin repeats, with a shaky breath. "You mean… in public?"

"Not in a way anyone will notice," Cecil answers. "I'm not exactly going to throw you down over one of the tables and ravage you. I only share with _select_ people, after all."

By this he means Mr Hartley, of course. And hopefully Carlos again as well, once the time comes to let him out of prison.

"So… what _are_ you planning?" Kevin asks.

"Something we haven't tried before. But something I'm confident you'll like. And you know the word to say if you _really_ want me to stop…"

They've had a safeword since the first time they took things to this level, down in that dungeon. And, no matter what mood he's trying to create, Cecil is still very good at reminding Kevin he can use that word if he needs to.

To date, he's never needed to. And that's partly because Cecil is so practiced at reading him, but also because Kevin finds he likes being pushed even harder than he first thought.

He nods. "I know. So… _please_ … tell me what it is."

Cecil leans in so close that they're nose-to-nose. "I'll do one better. I'll show you." And he lets go of Kevin, stepping back. "Strip. And then stand in the middle of the room, with your hands on your head."

Something about getting the actual order that's going to start this off makes Kevin's heart race. But he does as he's told, stripping off – which is doubly-fine, as he's not dressed for the party yet – and standing in the middle of the room, with his hands on his head.

Cecil watches without interfering, and paces in closer again once Kevin is done.

"Good," he purrs. "Good. I'm going to make this the most _interesting_ party you've ever been to."

Given that Kevin has worked for Strexcorp for many years, there's some firm competition in this field. But if anyone can outdo all of that, it's Cecil Palmer.

The other man turns, and takes something that's been concealed on the top of the dresser, and Kevin feels his breath catch as he realises that it's a long coil of golden-coloured rope. Cecil holds it up, meeting Kevin's eyes.

"You trust me, don't you?" he asks.

"Yes," Kevin gasps; going a little out of his mind with need again. They've never tried anything like this, but it's something Kevin has wanted to suggest for a while.

"Good. Then relax, and enjoy this next part…"

And – assisted by a book that he takes out and puts on the dresser, open on a particular page – Cecil starts to tie the rope around Kevin's torso, over his shoulders and across his chest, forming a tight harness. He passes the rope lines between Kevin's legs as well, with a couple of knots left in _very_ tactical places, and if Kevin thought he was wound-up before, it's nothing compared to how he feels right now.

When he's done, Cecil takes a step back, admiring his handiwork.

"What do you think?" he asks, with a very pleased smile.

"I love it," Kevin manages, his mind more than a little hazy; like he's trying to think through a layer of fog. "But… do you really… you want me to go to the party like this?"

"Not wearing nothing but rope," Cecil replies. "But with this lovely creation under your suit… oh yes. Yes. I do. And every time you _breathe_ , you'll be thinking of me."

That makes Kevin give another shuddery breath, born partly from need, but partly from the realisation that this is going to be challenging. _Very_ challenging. Which is precisely the point, and he knows it.

Cecil smiles again, no doubt reading that exact realisation in Kevin's expression. "Now get dressed," he says. "We have a party to go to."

***

By the time they're ready, both men are wearing their best suits; each with a glittering Strexcorp pin badge on their lapel. Kevin stares at himself in the mirror – Cecil, of course, still avoids mirrors like they know something he doesn't – and he has to admit, you really _can't_ tell what he's got under his shirt.

He can feel it, though. Every move, every breath… tight, but not restrictive, like lines of ownership across his skin. Cecil puts a hand on his back as they head towards the door, and even that sets Kevin's heart racing again, at the way he can feel the rope press against him.

"You're going to need to focus," Cecil points out; soft and utterly wicked. "I don't want you giving our little secret away."

"I won't," Kevin promises, and he won't, though right now he's not sure how to stop it. Hopefully being around other people will focus his mind.

By the time they reach the grand ballroom, the party is in full-swing. This is deliberate on Cecil's part, of course: one has to arrive fashionably late in order to make a proper entrance.

And they do make quite a sight: dressed in identical, immaculately-tailored black suits. Visually, the only way to tell them apart right now is their ties – Kevin's is orange, whilst Cecil still favours purple – and the fact that Kevin isn't shy about wearing his knife in public, even at a formal affair.

But there's something about Cecil that makes him impossible to miss: something about the way the power seems to crackle off him, even if he's not actively using it, and the fact that he's probably the only person in the room _not_ carrying a knife.

And that he's undoubtedly the most dangerous of all of them. Perhaps even more so than Derek Hartley himself, at least in terms of potential. Not that he would ever turn that power on their great leader, oh no, but it's still there nonetheless.

People step aside as the two doubles pace deeper into the room. It helps to know that they're attracting so much attention because they're Derek Hartley's Chief Enforcer and his Fixer, and not because Kevin is walking around wearing a lot of rope under his shirt.

The room itself is large and wide, with angled floor-to-ceiling windows along one side offering stunning views out over Desert Bluffs; bathed in the light of the constant sun. A significant number of people are here already; all dressed in various types of formalwear and mingling in the relatively sensible manner of those who have not yet had a great deal to drink. There's a long bar covering one wall, and everything is hung with glittering garlands hued in orange and gold.

It's impressive. And… par for the course, if you're used to this sort of thing.

It's their illustrious leader himself who approaches them first; detaching himself from the group he's been talking to and waving a server over in the process, to bring them each a glass of champagne.

"Good evening, both of you," Hartley says, smiling.

"Good evening, sir," Cecil answers, with a nod.

"I understand you had a successful afternoon."

"We did," Cecil tells him. "Another dissident cell taken down. Every one brings us closer to crushing this uprising… and finding where their leaders have gone."

"It will be a good day, when it comes," Hartley agrees. "For now, we have the formal unification of the Greater Metropolitan Area to celebrate."

Cecil nods. "Indeed we do. A truly wonderful milestone."

It's at this point that Hartley meets eyes with Kevin, which sends a shiver of need running through him. "You're very quiet," he remarks, leadingly.

"…Just overwhelmed with joy at our formal unification," Kevin ad-libs, with only the barest hesitation.

Hartley gives him a searching look – the kind that he can feel in his _blood_ – and then glances to Cecil. "What did you do?"

Cecil smiles, with a deliberate air of mystery about him. "I'll tell you all about it later, sir."

He is the only person in the world who can get away with saying things like this to Hartley, but it's because of how unwaveringly loyal to the man he is. For his part, Hartley smiles.

"In detail, I hope," he says.

"But of course," Cecil replies.

"I look forward to it. Enjoy the party, both of you."

And he moves off, leaving the two doubles standing on the edge of the crowd. Without skipping a beat, Cecil lifts a hand and lays it on Kevin's back; the gesture innocuous and wicked all at once. He can feel the lines of the rope against his skin, and the slight tightening across his chest, and keeping his expression level is surprisingly difficult.

Cecil smiles. "This is going to be fun."

***

They spend quite some time mingling with the various guests at the party. Kevin feels a little more relaxed once he gets onto his second glass of champagne… or maybe it's the rope, slowly leading his mind deeper into the black.

No one else seems to catch on that anything is amiss, however, and that certainly makes things easier. Indeed, Kevin is confident he's going to be able to hold himself together… at least, until Miriam Lowell shows up.

Once a protégé of the late, great Susan Hartley, Miriam is now leader of the Coven of the Sun; the group Susan herself founded way back in the 1950s. They're powerful summoners: acolytes of the Smiling God and an offshoot of the Joyous Congregation, and Miriam has led them for almost four years now, since the death of Marcela Wallace, the last of the coven's five founders.

Miriam herself is of average height – currently mitigated by a pair of killer stiletto heels – with golden-blonde hair that's pinned up into an elaborate design at the back of her head. She's wearing a long, form-hugging evening dress consisting almost entirely of glittering orange sequins, which perfectly shows off the stag antlers tattooed across her shoulderblades.

She smiles when she sees the two of them; ever-practiced at controlling her true emotions. It's no secret that Miriam and Kevin have never gotten along, but far more of an issue now is her reaction to Cecil. He is, after all, more powerful than her. More powerful than the entire coven combined. He is the successor to Susan Hartley that Strexcorp longed for… and Miriam knows it.

"Cecil," she purrs, stepping closer to them both and lightly tilting her champagne glass in their direction. "Kevin. A pleasure, as always."

This line is the verbal equivalent of drawing a knife on them. Cecil doesn't even blink.

"Likewise, Miriam. Are you enjoying the party?"

"I always enjoy these things," Miriam answers. "This is where the Coven of the Sun belongs: at Strexcorp's heart."

"And this is where they will always remain," Cecil says. "In Susan's memory, of course."

"Of course." A beat. "You still haven't taken me up on my offer."

Cecil smiles. "Oh, Miriam, the last thing you want is me coming along to one of your coven meetings. I'd be the new leader before the day was out. If I wanted to be. Which, as we have discussed, I don't."

But he could be. That's the point Cecil keeps hammering home, and the point Miriam insists on bringing up over and over, as if she _wants_ to goad Cecil into trying something.

She wants to prove him wrong. And that's admirable… but also ridiculous.

"Don't be so sure," Miriam counters, smoothly. She's definitely good at verbal combat – something she no doubt learned from her late, great mentor – but it doesn't change the reality of the situation.

"I'm not sure, Miriam. I'm _certain_."

The orange-clad woman's eyes narrow into a glower. "Nothing is truly certain, Cecil. Not you, not me, not even Strexcorp. Only the Smiling God."

Cecil steps in closer to her at that, managing to look perfectly innocuous for all the world to see, and yet radiating danger nonetheless.

Kevin gives a shiver, and hopes Miriam hasn't noticed.

"If you want an excuse to take me on, Miriam, you only have to ask," Cecil says, his voice low. "But you make sure you name a successor first, because I don't want to have to deal with the political fallout if you die without one."

Miriam's glower turns into a full-on glare. "One day, Cecil Palmer," she replies, tone clipped and icy, "someone is going to put you in your place."

"Perhaps," he answers. "But it won't be you. Good evening, Miriam."

And, taking the hint, she stalks off without a backward glance.

"…you're _really_ hot when you get all growly like that," Kevin hears himself say.

Cecil puts a hand on his back again, and smiles. "Am I, now? I'll keep that in mind."

***

It's a little while later, and Kevin has gone to the bar for another round of drinks, leaving Cecil talking to a group of middle managers from the expansion team. Stepping away like this ought to help – given that it should give him a moment or two to get his thoughts in line again – but it's quickly becoming evident that Kevin is past the point of no return.

His whole body is achingly hot and every movement reminds him just how much he _needs_ , and just how completely at Cecil's mercy he is right now. The alcohol flowing through his blood only makes the sensation more intense, and he feels almost giddy with it.

Just as he's lost in his thoughts, Kevin realises that Cecil has stepped up beside him again, and there's a different air to him as he does.

"What's an attractive man like you doing all alone at a party like this?"

Something about the very obvious line makes Kevin's heart race. He knows the alcohol is at least partly to blame, but at the same time he's confident he'd play along regardless.

"Serving Strexcorp, of course," he answers, as smoothly as he can. "You?"

"The same," Cecil replies, leaning on the bar and looking sideways at him. "So would you like to?"

"…Would I like to what?"

"Serve Strexcorp. I _am_ its Chief Enforcer, after all."

Kevin turns at this, stepping in closer as if he's drawn by the other man's words. Which he is, of course. "I thought you looked familiar."

With perfect timing, the server chooses this moment to set their glasses on the bartop. Ignoring the slight incongruity of there being two – when, in this little scenario, he's supposed to be going solo – Kevin nods towards the glasses.

"Drink?" he offers.

Cecil gives a nod. "Thank you."

They both take a glass, chink them together, and then drink; before setting the glasses down again in near-unison.

"You didn't answer my question," Cecil points out. "Would you like to serve Strexcorp?"

"I was under the impression that I already do," Kevin replies.

Cecil steps in so close that all Kevin can feel is the heat from his body, and the strength of his will. And even though the two of them are precisely the same height, somehow it feels to Kevin as though Cecil is towering over him.

"Me, then," the other man says, easily. "Would you like to serve _me?_ "

If they weren't in a roomful of people, Kevin knows he'd have fallen straight to his knees at that. As it is, he just about manages to keep his footing, though keeping one hand on the bar helps with this.

"You're very presumptuous," Kevin manages.

Cecil smiles. "Let's just say I know my audience…"

He puts a hand out, slipping it under Kevin's jacket and stroking along his side… which of course means he's more than able to feel the rope under Kevin's shirt. And Cecil keeps going, leaning in close enough to whisper in Kevin's ear.

"Well, now. Who put all this rope here?"

"My boyfriend," Kevin manages; glad that Cecil is standing so close because he's sure he must just have gone very pink.

"Really? And does he approve of you showing it off to strange men?"

Despite it all, Kevin smiles. "Let's just say I know my audience," he replies.

Cecil's hand drifts to his hip, tracing the covered lines of rope. "You're right about that," he breathes, voice low and full of promise. "Shall we take this somewhere a little more secluded?"

"If you _insist_."

"I insist," Cecil says.

Somehow, they stagger to a spot beyond the bar, mostly out of sight, where the lighting is low. And then Cecil pulls Kevin in close, kissing him furiously hard; one hand on his hip and the other on his chest, bunched in his shirt, keeping him in place.

"You're so easily persuaded," Cecil growls, as they pause for breath; pushing Kevin back against the wall as he speaks. "So easily seduced. I'm going to enjoy you for a while right here, and then I'm going to take you back to my room and _ruin you_. And if you're very, very good, I won't make you do another round of small talk at the party between steps one and two…"

" _Please, Cecil_ ," Kevin gasps, his whole body aching with need. "I'll do anything you want… anything… _please_."

"You're right," Cecil tells him, with a smile that could break lesser beings on the spot. "You _will_."

He pushes in to kiss Kevin again, which makes Kevin's stomach do somersaults of hope and apprehension; no resistance in his movements as he lets his double take control.

It feels good. So good. _Too_ good.

"You know I could wreck you right here," Cecil growls in his ear. "And you couldn't stop me. You _wouldn't_ stop me."

"I'll d-do anything you say," Kevin gasps again. "Please… please… _let me serve you_."

Out of his mind with need he may be, but stupid he isn't. The words get precisely the reaction from Cecil that Kevin wants: hands pinning him to the wall, whilst kissing him even more furiously than before. The man is a force of nature, and Kevin loves revelling in it. In _him_.

"Now that's more like it," Cecil purrs, with a smile; hands moving to stroke over Kevin's sides, tracing the lines of the rope. "But I'm not quite done with you here…"

He presses in to kiss Kevin again, hard and rough: a man who knows what he wants and is more than ready to take it. And Kevin keeps on not resisting, his body thrumming with heat and _need_ , and every movement driving him a little more insane with it all. The rope holds him like Cecil's will: firm and tight and inescapable… with those strategically-placed knots that push his mind deeper and deeper with every breath.

He was holding out before because he had the distraction of the party, and the people there. But now… now they're nothing but a distant hum, and Cecil is everything.

The latest round of kissing breaks, and Cecil grips Kevin's chin, making him look up, meeting his eyes. " _Please_ ," Kevin gasps, _begs_ , trying not to blink.

Cecil smiles, fond and wicked all at once. "You're so very ingratiating. I do like that. Come with me… and try not to look _quite_ so debauched…"

And Cecil takes Kevin's hand, leading him back out into the party, and for one very alarming moment, Kevin is worried that Cecil really _is_ going to make him attempt another round of small talk. But mercifully, the man has other ideas, and – caught in a deepening mental haze – Kevin lets himself be led out of the ballroom and into the blissfully cooler corridors beyond.

The walk back to their suite takes a few moments. It's uneventful to start with – they don't pass many people, and those they do quickly nod and hurry on – but that changes when they make it to the central elevator, which will take them up to their own floor. The moment the doors close – with just the two of them inside – Kevin finds himself slammed into the wall and kissed hard, all over again. He gives a little squeak of surprise, aware his guard is down and he should have seen that coming, and then his heart starts to race as they pass every floor, wondering if they're about to be interrupted.

No one would dare question them if they _did_ see what was going on. Their relationship is not a secret. But somehow, the thought of being caught like this makes Kevin's blood burn with apprehension. And… possibly something else, as well.

The elevator car doesn't stop until it reaches their floor, however, and Cecil lets go of him just before the doors open. There's no one else around, though, and soon they're at the entrance to their own suite; Cecil letting them in and then dragging Kevin through, kicking the door shut behind them again.

And kissing Kevin like there's no tomorrow: rough and possessive and so thoroughly in control that Kevin feels as though his knees are going to give way. Seconds later, Cecil has pushed him into the nearest wall, getting a cry of desperate appreciation for his trouble.

"We're all alone now," Cecil points out, holding Kevin in place. "No one to interrupt. No one to see what I'm going to do to you…"

" _Oh please_ ," Kevin gasps, his mind going deeper now he knows it's safe to let go. "Please. I'll do anything. I'll serve you. _Take what's yours_."

"I intend to," Cecil tells him. "I intend to take _everything_."

He pushes a hand between Kevin's legs, stroking him over his clothing, and Kevin cries out at that, not quite prepared for just how sensitive he is right now.

"So eager," Cecil purrs. "So _willing_. But I've barely started…"

And he yanks Kevin away from the wall by his tie, leading him through to the bedroom and starting to pull clothing off him – and himself – as they go. This is a rather more intensive process than usual, given all the rope, and the fact that – once Kevin's shirt is off – Cecil can touch that rope as much as he wants.

And he clearly wants.

He throws Kevin back on the bed, stripping off the last of his clothing, and then climbs on top of him. Cecil himself is still mostly clothed at this point, and that makes it more intense as well; heightening the power imbalance between them.

"Please," Kevin begs again, as Cecil pins him down and starts kissing his neck. "Please, please, I'll do anything…"

Cecil smiles; a man with a plan. "Let's see, shall we?" he says.

He pulls back and flips Kevin roughly over onto his front, before reaching to pull another coil of rope from under one of the pillows, and _this_ is the point at which Kevin realises that Cecil has known _exactly_ where all this is going since the start.

And he loves that. Loves being worthy of a genuine _scheme_. Even if it is likely going to have him screaming before long.

"Don't resist me," Cecil growls, warningly. "This will go much better for you if you keep being so obedient."

"I'll do anything," Kevin gasps again, wanting his double to know. "I'll– _oh_."

It's at this point that Cecil yanks both of Kevin's wrists behind his back and starts binding them tightly together. He clearly knows what he's doing; spreading out the pressure so that Kevin doesn't lose feeling in his fingertips, but it takes another moment before Kevin realises that this also means the restraint can be partially load-bearing.

"Up on your knees," Cecil orders, and Kevin obeys: with a little help, given that he can't use his hands. "You're going to enjoy this…"

It's amazing how he can make that sound just as much like a threat as a promise. Cecil steps up onto the bed, passing the long end of the rope binding Kevin's wrists through a hook on the ceiling… a hook that's been there for a few days, and Kevin has been wondering when the other man would tell him why.

When Cecil speaks again, the smile in his voice is audible. And _terrifying_. "Brace yourself."

And he starts to pull on the rope, which means Kevin's bound arms are being tugged _up_ behind his back, and for a few seconds he can't quite process how that is even going to work because arms don't go that way… and then the momentum and the pressure alone forces him to bend forward all of a sudden, face pushed into the sheets, ass in the air.

" _Smiling God_ ," he gasps, in very real shock; almost completely immobilised by the position and the pressure, to say nothing of the way the rope harness presses into him like this.

"Now that's better," Cecil purrs, fixing the rope off… somewhere, Kevin isn't quite sure… and then pacing closer again. "You look suitably _obedient_ at last…"

Kevin's mind is simultaneously sky-high and a thousand miles underwater. He can feel every inch of his skin like this: hyper-sensitive and _vulnerable_ , and a shiver of desperate need runs through him.

"Don't you worry," Cecil tells him, in exactly the voice he uses when he's trying to get captured dissidents to reveal their secrets. "I'll take my time with you. I doubt you'll be able to speak much by the end… but I'm sure you'll still be able to scream."

His hands go to Kevin's ass: stroking, teasing, but no more. Not yet. "You're shaking."

" _I'm yours_ ," Kevin breathes.

"Good answer…" Cecil lands a single, rough slap to Kevin's ass, and then traces the line of the rope. "Spread your knees wider."

It isn't the easiest thing to do in this position, but Kevin obeys; enough to let Cecil push a hand between his legs and start stroking him from behind. The touch alone makes Kevin cry out – already sounding wrecked – and arch into the contact.

"You know I won't let you come easily," Cecil reminds him. "I won't let you come at all unless you're very, _very_ good. And if you come without my permission… oh, Kevin, even you won't be able to endure the consequences…"

That sets off the most delicious spark of terror in Kevin's chest. "I'll obey you," he gasps. "You know I will."

"I know you want to," Cecil replies, still stroking him firmly, and if the man is trying to make a liar of him here and now, he's going the right way about it. "And that's why I might just let you have a sliver of a chance…"

He lets go, which makes Kevin give a low, keening sound of need despite everything, and then ducks down to take something from under the bed. And although Kevin can't see what's going on, he knows that Cecil has brought out the box where they keep their collection of _specialised_ equipment; opening it up and selecting what he needs.

For starters, at least.

"Is it pain you're craving?" Cecil asks, tracing the tip of a cane lightly over Kevin's ass. "Or just brain-melting pleasure..?"

"…there's a difference?" Kevin replies, before he can stop himself.

" _There_ he is…" Cecil purrs, sounding pleased. "You're fun when you're completely obedient… but then again, I do like a little _resistance_ to push against…"

He lands a single blow with the cane across Kevin's ass… and thank the Smiling God it _is_ a single blow, because Kevin is already so hyper-sensitive that he _howls_ in shock, and pain… and bliss.

"…not that I expect you'd be capable of resisting for long," Cecil goes on, easily. "Not tonight."

"I… c-can if I want…" Kevin gasps; some little spark of insolence pushing through now that he can tell Cecil wants to see it.

Cecil gives a soft laugh. "I very much doubt it."

A second blow lands, to follow the first, and Kevin howls all over again; the shock of it too much to hold in. Nothing in their little collection hurts more than that cane, so if Cecil is _starting_ with it, he means to break Kevin completely. It's a realisation which makes Kevin's heart beat even faster, body shaking as he tries to suppress the reaction.

Not that he really stands a chance, face-down in the sheets like this, open and exposed. But oh, oh, how he loves it all the same.

"I…" he gasps out, struggling for coherence already. "I… won't…"

"Won't what?" Cecil pushes. "Won't give in completely? Won't surrender your body and mind and _heart_ to me without hesitation?" He laughs softly again, but there's a hint of warmth to it now; affection even he can't quite hide. "My dear double… you already have."

Fingertips trace over Kevin's ass again, following the lines of heat where the blows of the cane have landed, and toying with the rope… and with one of those tactically-positioned knots in particular, which makes Kevin whimper unashamedly.

"You see? You've never been able to resist me. And now… now… I think it's time you screamed for me again…"

Even with that warning, the third blow seems to come out of nowhere; a single crack and an explosion of hot, sharp pain that makes Kevin all but howl the roof off. And then he buries his face in the sheets, trying to control the desperate need to beg for mercy. Trying to hold in the tangle of words that are already spilling out.

"What was that?" Cecil asks, pleasantly. Which means the question is anything but.

Kevin keeps his head down, not trusting himself to lift it yet. Cecil has other ideas, however, and leans in, lacing fingertips through his hair and tugging his head back.

"I said: _'what was that?'_ "

"… _mercy_ …" Kevin whispers, closing his eyes.

"Mercy?" Cecil repeats, very softly, letting go of his hair and stroking carefully through it. "Already? I really did do a number on you, didn't I?" He traces gently over Kevin's skin, following the lines of rope across his back, light and careful… and then slipping under one particular line and _pulling_ , which makes hot pleasure-pain shoot through Kevin all at once.

Cecil holds that line tight as he leans back in. "How often have you known me to be merciful?" he breathes, deadly. "I told you I was going to _ruin you_ … and I meant it."

" _Please_ ," Kevin gasps, in shock, in fear, in _delight_.

"You'll take another," Cecil tells him. "And you'll do it without crying out. And _if_ you do, maybe I'll put the cane down and find that lovely knife of yours instead… and if you don't, well, we'll just have to keep trying…"

Kevin's heart races so hard at that, he wonders if Cecil can hear it. He manages a nod of acquiescence – not quite trusting himself to speak – and then buries his face in the sheets again.

"Head up," Cecil orders, almost idly. "I don't plan on making this easy for you."

All Kevin can do now is obey: lifting his head and biting his lip, and bracing for what's to come. And the trouble with that is bracing makes him _more_ tense, not less… and the tenser he is, the more this will hurt.

But that's the point, of course.

Kevin feels the tip of the cane touch his ass again, tracing lightly over oh-so-tender skin, and then drawing back and…

…nothing…

…nothing…

… _nothing_ …

…landing hard and quick after that mercilessly long pause; the pain sharp as ice and bright as fire. Even prepared, even braced, even _desperate_ , Kevin can't stay quiet; a scream slipping his lips after an agonising second.

"What did I say?" Cecil asks, utterly deadly.

" _I'm sorry_ ," Kevin gasps. "I… d-do it again… please… I won't let you d–"

The blow comes out of nowhere, and something about that makes it a little easier to internalise his reaction. His whole body shakes from the force of it, breath hissing out sharply, but he does manage not to scream.

" _Better_ ," Cecil purrs. "I knew I could make you beg for it if I tried…"

Kevin's cheeks flush hot, and he risks pressing his face into the sheets again. Cecil doesn't object this time, and reaches to stroke gently through his hair. "No more of this," he adds. "Let's find that lovely knife of yours…"

This is a blessing and a curse in equal measure. Kevin knows Cecil would never truly hurt him with the blade, which in turn means that nothing he _will_ do could equal what he's already done with the cane. But… the knife is heavy with such _meaning_ that the emotional weight will be so very much stronger.

Cecil paces off, setting down the cane with an audible tap and then locating where – in the trail of shed clothing – Kevin's belt ended up. He clearly finds it, because there's a moment of movement, followed by the clear sound of the blade being drawn from its sheath.

And then he paces back over, tracing the very tip of the knife across Kevin's ass, making him whimper long before he can stop himself.

"The truth is," Cecil says, "this one will always be my favourite. It may not be the one that hurts the most… but the impact of it is still stronger than anything else I could use, isn't it? After all… it's _your_ knife. I considered getting one myself, you know. Perhaps one day I will. But at the same time, I'll always love the _symbolism_ of turning your own blade against you…"

He keeps the tip of the knife moving, stroking the contours of Kevin's skin, and Kevin can hardly breathe. He's no stranger to playing with the blade like this… but they've always used it on his torso; his chest or his back. So feeling it trace over his ass; over skin so vulnerable and delicate, is a new kind of perfect torture.

"I love making you surrender it to me, too," Cecil goes on; his tone academic now, though it's clear he's paying very close attention to what he's doing. "Not an option tonight, of course, but still a lovely image. All that raw power and strength you have, symbolised by this beautiful blade… given up without question. To _me_."

"I'll g-give you anything, Cecil," Kevin gasps, suddenly; fervour gripping his heart. " _Anything_. You know I will."

"I _do_ know you will," Cecil replies. "I do. And _you_ know I'll push you when you need it."

" _I need it_."

"I know you do. I know _you_."

The tip of the knife traces – very carefully – along the side of the rope running right between Kevin's legs, and his mind goes stratospheric. " _Please!_ " he cries, a good octave higher than usual, though he's not sure whether he's begging for mercy, or for more. "Cecil, please!"

"I would keep still, if I were you," Cecil reminds him, though not harshly. Not overtly, at least. "This is rather _precision_ work, after all…"

The knife follows the same line in the opposite direction, and Kevin presses his face into the sheets again, stifling a scream. He _knows_ Cecil won't hurt him like this. He _knows_. But instinct and logic are very different things when you're tied up and bent over with a knife tracing very, very vulnerable parts of you.

" _P-please…_ " Kevin hears himself gasp, and it's clear he's starting to slip out of his own mind. "I… C-Cecil… please…"

"Are you going to beg me for mercy again?" Cecil asks. "Do you think that would be wise?"

It's possible this is an offer. It's possible this is a trick question. Not knowing is problematic.

"…I'll do anything you say…"

"I know you will. I know. I think perhaps it's time I made good use of you…"

" _Yes_ ," Kevin cries out. "Yes. _Please_."

Cecil lifts the knife away, and strokes fingertips along the lines it's been following instead. "So very eager," he remarks. "Is that because you want to serve me, or because you're out of your mind with need..?"

"… _both_."

That makes Cecil laugh, not unkindly. "At least you're honest…"

He sets the knife down, and then Kevin can hear the soft sounds of movement as Cecil finishes stripping off his own clothing. Once he has, he takes the bottle of lubricant from the nightstand, though Kevin isn't certain what he's applying it to until he feels the fingers stroking between his legs again. Cecil's other hand finds a particular point on the rope harness at the base of Kevin's back, and tugs; freeing the line running between his legs without undoing the whole harness.

And then, with all the access he needs, he roughly shoves a finger into Kevin, right up to the knuckle. Even braced for it – and very, very in favour – the intrusion still makes Kevin cry out in wracked bliss; seconds before he's trying to push back against Cecil, already craving _more_.

"So very eager," Cecil purrs, slipping in a second finger when it's clear just how much Kevin wants it. "So very _obedient_. Tell me again how badly you need this. _Remind me_ why I should wreck you…"

Kevin feels his skin flush hot again, but he's so out of his mind now that replying really isn't difficult. "I need this," he gasps. "I need you. Need to be yours. Need you to _use me_. I'll do anything you want, anything you say, anything you command, just… please… _please_ …"

"Good," Cecil tells him, "good…" And he scissors those two fingers apart, inside Kevin, which makes the helpless man on the bed promptly scream the roof off again.

" _Yes!_ Yes… yes… Cecil, please, I need you, I need you, please, please, please..!"

Cecil slaps him on the ass, just once, and then repeats the evil, evil, wicked, _wonderful_ movement with those two fingers. "Again."

" _I need you, I need you, **I need you, Cecil, please!**_ "

This does not, however, get him any mercy. What it gets him is a third finger, a couple of quick thrusts, and then a twisting motion that almost, almost, wrecks him on the spot.

" _ **Please!**_ " Kevin howls, well-aware that his mind is a broken mess by this point. His hips are shaking; tension in every line of his body, and he's long since stopped processing the ache in his arms. All he feels – all he _really_ feels – is **need**.

Cecil slows the movement of those three fingers, but he doesn't stop. The respite is just enough for Kevin to start processing coherent thought again, if only a little.

"Are you going to be good for me?" Cecil asks him.

" _Yes_ ," Kevin gasps, full of fervour. "Yes. I'm yours. Please take what's yours."

Those three fingers slide back and forth a few more times, but slower still, and then Cecil pulls them free. There's the sound of more lubricant being poured out, and applied… and then Kevin feels the other man starting to push into him, and he's so ready for it that it isn't difficult at all.

"Oh yes," he hears Cecil breathe, in obvious pleasure. "Yes. You're always worth waiting for…"

And he starts to move his hips; slowly at first but quickly speeding up, until he's driving himself deep into Kevin with every thrust. Utterly helpless, given the position he's in, all Kevin can do is revel in it; crying out over and over as his mind sinks deeper into absolute bliss.

"Does that feel good?" Cecil purrs.

"Y-yes," Kevin gasps. " _Yes_. Yours. All yours. Need you…"

"I know you do. Believe me… I _know_."

He takes his time with it: sometimes fast and sometimes slow, knowing precisely how to draw this out. How to make Kevin _need_ , more and more and more, until he's completely lost in it.

And then, without warning, Cecil reaches to start stroking Kevin _hard_. That alone makes him cry out, shaking with renewed need and with renewed fear, at the sudden awareness that the other man might just choose to undo him like this, and then punish him for it all the same.

"P-please," he begs. "Cecil… please… I'm so close… I… can't…"

"Yes, you can," Cecil replies, and his tone is still firm even though it's rough with pleasure too. "I told you… if you come without my permission, the punishment will be _exquisite_."

Some part of Kevin still wants that, of course. Some part that he's still exploring, still understanding. Some part of him wants to be pushed beyond what he thinks his limits are, so he can find out what's on the other side.

But all of that is secondary to his need to obey Cecil. To not let him down. And that's the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely right now.

"… _please_ …" he whispers, desperate and begging and _wrecked_.

" **No** ," Cecil tells him. "No."

And, with a couple of final thrusts, he himself comes instead, with a rough cry of pleasure; not slowing his movements until his own climax has abated. It takes all of the lingering shreds of Kevin's will not to come as well, but as soon as Cecil goes still, the mental wall inside Kevin's head just _falls_.

"Please," he begs; a man who would give up the world in return for what he needs right now. "Cecil, please… please… _please_ …"

Cecil doesn't answer. He just starts to stroke Kevin again; still buried inside him as he does, and Kevin shakes in the rope, totally, utterly lost.

"… _ruin me_ …" he whispers.

Silence. A few more rough strokes. And then a single word, a single order, growled in a tone that leaves no room to disobey.

" _ **Come**_."

And Kevin does not need telling twice. Climax hits him like a tsunami, and he screams so loud he can feel it in every one of his bones, shaking in Cecil's grasp as much as the rope and the position will allow; howling in relief and gratitude and absolute surrender…

…and then collapsing, held up only by the rope and Cecil's hands, the world going hazy and all but slipping sideways.

"Good," Cecil purrs, softly; affectionately now. "Good."

Kevin tries to say something; something like 'I love you', but the words won't form, and all he manages is a little murmur. Cecil seems to get the message, though; stroking a hand through Kevin's hair again, gently this time.

"I know," he says. "I know. Just relax, and let me take care of you."

He breaks contact lingeringly, and goes over to wherever the other end of that rope is tied off, loosening it carefully so that he can slowly lower Kevin's arms back down. That sends a fresh, unavoidable wave of pain running through Kevin's body, but right now _everything_ feels so good that he hardly processes it.

Cecil steps in again, taking hold of Kevin and helping him to lie down flat, which really is _very_ nice, before starting to slowly unbind his wrists, rubbing them gently as he does. Kevin murmurs in gratitude again, which makes Cecil bend to kiss him on the shoulder, between the lines of rope still criss-crossing his skin.

"I need to untie all of this, now," Cecil tells him. "Can you kneel up if I help?"

It turns out that Kevin can, so long as Cecil keeps on supporting him a little all the way through. It's enough to let him start gently unbinding the rope harness, bit by bit; kissing gently over the skin beneath as it's uncovered.

Once Kevin is completely free, Cecil passes him a bottle of water from the nightstand. This is something Kevin never thinks he needs until Cecil makes him try, at which point he realises quite how thirsty he is. He drinks down a fair amount of the water with breathy little gasps, and then hands the bottle back.

And then, finally – blissfully – Cecil lies down on the bed, pulling Kevin in close and wrapping him in tight, and he gasps again; the feeling akin to sinking into a hot bath at the end of a long day, except _better_.

He sighs in contentment, and he can practically feel Cecil smiling.

"Was that good?" his double asks, sounding equal parts affectionate and _very_ pleased with himself.

Kevin still can't get the words to form, so he murmurs in happiness and nods. A lot.

Cecil laughs, warmly. "I thought you might approve. I know you so well."

He really does. It would be a little scary if it wasn't so very, very much fun.

Kevin curls in closer, and Cecil holds on tight, reaching to hook the bedcovers up with his foot, so he can tug them over them both. They lie like that for a few minutes, just enjoying the contact, the closeness.

"… _thatwasreallygood_ …" Kevin finally manages, aware he still sounds completely out of his head.

"It was," Cecil agrees. "You're so delicious when you beg… and when you _scream_ … and when you fall apart in my hands…"

That makes Kevin shiver with delight. "You always make it worth my while," he murmurs.

"I always will," Cecil promises. "I told you, back at the start, that I'd make a believer out of you…"

"And you have," Kevin replies, smiling. "Oh, you have."

**Author's Note:**

> ...and a very, _very_ Happy Christmas to you all. ;-)
> 
> (Yes, I'm going back to work on Old Iron Gates, now!)


End file.
